Parallax
by Vaudeville
Summary: Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax. -- Dan x Rorschach, eventual slash -- Formerly Blood From the Shoulder of Pallas
1. Ch 1: Nostalgia

Chapter 1: Nostalgia

Dan sighed as he fumbled with a few of Archie's autopilot settings. He and Rorschach had left Karnak a few hours ago, flying high much like Dan's worried mind: far above the clouds. The atmosphere was thin and clear. His thoughts were still in the pure white snow, replaying the last few days over in his head. He had hardly noticed when the sun finally slipped over the horizon, providing the first natural cover of darkness that he had seen since Adrian's man made-- or perhaps, more divinely made-- darkness enveloped the world. It had been far too bright lately and the contradiction twisted what little hope he had left for building towards the future.

He glanced over at Rorschach, stretched out on the curved eyelet of the porthole adjacent to his own. Dan turned away for a moment, recalling how Laurie had curled against him in that very window only days before, soft and sweet and bare against his chest, in his arms. He had been perhaps a bit _too_ eager to keep his adrenaline pumping at the time. He had promptly raced off to plan a prison break, far too soon after establishing those first tenuous, clumsy intimacies. He felt alive for the first time in years and had wanted to take as much of it in as he could before it was too late. And now that 'too late' had passed, he kicked himself for not savoring the beautiful woman he had held for so short a time.

Dan swallowed down his resentment as he shook the memory away and brought his eyes back to the man who rested there now. He couldn't help but smile; Rorschach looked like a rag doll, as if he had been tossed against the ship console and left discarded on the window ledge, all sprawling limbs and oversized clothes. He hadn't spoken or moved much at all since they left had Antarctica and Dan suspected he had fallen asleep the moment he was able to let his guard down once more, safely nestled in the wings of Dan's bird.

Not once since reuniting with Dan had Rorschach opted to take his usual seat in the copilot's chair. But then… Rorschach wasn't really Dan's partner anymore and gone was the day when that was considered his usual seat. It wasn't much a copilot's chair at all anymore; it was merely the passenger seat-- also, he noted dismally, the seat he had bent Laurie over some nights ago-- and Rorschach clearly didn't care to adopt such a designation as 'passenger.' _Stowaway, then,_ he thought.

Dan chuckled in spite of himself, finding the bizarre situation curiously ordinary. It felt familiar and almost comforting, not as deplorable as it was in actuality. It felt like nothing had changed, as if it were the old days when his friend was likewise comfortable enough to be so trusting and even casual, like a frequently applied tempera on the palette and landscape of Dan's life.

But in truth, no matter how ardently Dan wished it was so, this was nothing like the old days but rather, the end of days. Absolutely nothing was the same as it had been before and probably never would be again. Certainly, Dan felt relieved to be alive and was even a bit excited by the potentialities proposed by the upheaval of his stalemated life. On the other hand, however, he dreaded the hardship inherent in such rebirth, especially now that he was wanted by the police, had probably lost his home and everything he owned in the blast, and had Rorschach to keep an eye on and care for on top of everything else. Comparatively, his apprehension outweighed his enthusiasm.

He snapped out of his musings and went back to work on his ship. When they had first left Karnak, he had only put in some arbitrary northern coordinates, _something_ to get them out of all that goddamn snow. Peeking out the window now, he thought he could see a bit of land below, something dark and green and flourishing, and figured it was about time he entered more definitive coordinates. He unlocked the steering column and gripped the yoke with one hand as he pressed a few buttons, turning off the autopilot. Archie dipped unexpectedly, dropping a few dozen feet and rapidly, but Dan pulled him back up and level, recovering the ship almost as quickly it had fallen.

Rorschach jolted awake as the acute shift in altitude and gravitational force made his stomach lurch suddenly. He braced himself against the cool glass of the window and the curve of the bay, letting out a soft puff of air. He peered over at Dan, who cast a quick look at him and apologized as he hurriedly punched various buttons, clearly agitated. Rorschach merely nodded and regarded him, his eyes flitting back and forth, between his movements as he flipped a few switches and turned a couple knobs, and Dan's panicked and somewhat nauseated expression.

The ship made an unusual whirring noise but the sound stopped almost as quickly as it had begun and the autopilot kicked in with a slight jerk. A moment of silence passed as Dan and Rorschach stared blankly at each other, both focusing their attentions on the ship as they listened for other unusual sounds and anticipated more turbulence. Archie hummed amiably and flew without further upsets.

Rorschach settled back against the rounded alcove. "Ev--" he started hoarsely, politely though needlessly lifting a hand to his lips as he cleared his throat, fingertips brushing against the warm latex over his fleshy mouth. "Everything all right?" He hadn't spoken much the last few days or taken his face off much for that matter either.

"Yeah," Dan replied as he regained his own equilibrium now that the airship's was reestablished. He stared as Rorschach pulled his mask off and dropped it in his lap, then ran his hands through his thick red hair. "Yeah, I'm, um, I'm fine. Just a little distracted, I guess."

"Meant the ship," Rorschach clarified as he absently massaged his swollen ankle with one hand and scratched his scalp with the other. Dan watched the movement, the words not registering as he considered that it must make his head itch, having his hair matted down under the mask for days at a time.

"Uh, well, er..." Dan stuttered finally as Rorschach's eyes flashed to his, staring intently at him. Dan didn't know what to make of his comrade's expression. Though Dan found his friend's livid blue eyes to be highly expressive, he had yet to learn to interpret the feeling behind them. His mouth, though, was another story; after years of only knowing this part of Rorschach's face, Dan could identify the smirk that dimpled his hollow scarred cheeks and lightly curled the corners of his lips. Juxtaposed with the intensity of his stare, Dan could only assume what he _thought_ he already knew: Rorschach was playing with him.

"Unsafe to steer ship while distracted," he continued to tease. His forehead wrinkled as a brow perked. "_Do_ seem a bit green, however. Feeling sick?"

"A little bit," Dan huffed, shrugging off Rorschach's taunt and taking his glasses off to wipe them clean on his sweater. "I guess I'm, uh, just not used to being in flight anymore, y'know?"

"Been too long to do loop-dee-loops," Rorschach conceded, subtly imparting his own sense of discomfort.

Dan laughed at his choice of vocabulary and placed his glasses back on his face, pushing them up to the bridge of his nose. "That it has." He nodded slowly and stared at the ship's console, then sat forward to check over Archie's systems one more time. "What about you? Did you have a good nap over there in your little corner?" Dan asked, trying his hand at teasing Rorschach, though he was really too tired to put much effort into it. _Archie doesn't have corners anyway,_ he thought, correcting himself.

He sat back as his bird's computers took over the flight and glanced over at the scruffy redhead, who finally shrugged his response. Rorschach looked as if all the life had drained out of him in the time it took for Dan to turn away to tend to the ship and then back again. He was staring down at the mask in his hands, leaning his head against the cool glass. _Desolate,_ Dan thought, applying an adjective to how the smaller man looked. He couldn't help but wonder if this was how Rorschach always appeared underneath the mask. If he had always been so... Broken. He hadn't been right for days. Not since…

.

.

"Keep your own secrets." Rorschach growls. He turns to each and every one of them, glowering through his swirling mask as if marking them off in his mind, and then stalks off without another word.

Dan watches him leave, feeling his heart fall into his stomach. He sighs, exasperated beyond belief that Rorschach was choosing now, of all moments, to be self-righteous and headstrong.

He fixes his eyes on Adrian and follows his line of sight to Jon, seeing the two of them share some sort unspoken communication, a language that Dan translates immediately. He all but scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't even think about it," he warns, pointing an accusatory finger at Adrian as he moves to go after his wayward pal.

"Rorschach!" Dan calls as his steps slow. He stops at the door, his back to Dan. His head turns slightly and Dan can see the white of his mask over the collar of his trench coat. "Wait..."

Rorschach sways for a moment and then shifts as if to look over his shoulder, not quite making it. He waits, listening, but Dan suddenly has no idea what it was he wanted to say.

"Never compromise." The door opens, its panels twisting away to open up to the dead, icy world beyond. The frigid wind nips at Dan's bare cheeks and it makes Rorschach's muted voice that much more inaudible and Dan has to strain to hear him. "Not even in the face of Armageddon."

Another moment's pause, then Rorschach turns more fully and Dan can see him in profile, see his breath puffing in the cold, short and erratic. "That's always been the difference between us, Daniel," Rorschach hushes, the usual edge to his voice melting into something frail and raw. He pivots completely and finally brings his masked gaze to Dan, holding him with his stare, and Dan realizes that Rorschach is waiting for something.

But as Dan struggles to capture what it is that he's searching for, Rorschach slowly averts his eyes and turns his back to him. He flips up his collar, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out into the glacial abyss; he walks away like he did ten years ago down the dark, unfeeling tunnel that led away from Dan and their friendship. Just like the night Dan told him that he was no longer Nite Owl and that things were changing. That they had to change. That he wasn't his partner anymore. Rorschach walked away then just as he was walking away now: his head down, his stride slow but sure.

Dan groans and rubs his eyes with the pads of his gloved fingers. "This is suicide," he mutters. _Doesn't Rorschach know that? And where the hell did he think he was going?_ Archie is twenty miles off and not in working order. He won't make it. And if the cold doesn't kill him then one of the others will. _And then what will come of his stupid sense of retribution? He has to know that this little temper tantrum of his will only end badly. What the hell does he expect me to do? Go out there and drag him back in? Scold him and put him in time-out until he behaves?_ Dan snorts and shakes his head, tired of all this ridiculousness.

_'That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.'_

Dan sighs. _The way he said my name…_ It was breathless, like a promise or an apology. Like he was asking for forgiveness. For being difficult. For saying and doing the wrong things. _For being my friend and for that to be inconvenient for me…_

_'Do you know how hard it is, being your friend?_

_'Daniel, I-- You _are _a good friend. I know this... Can be difficult with me sometimes.'_

Dan turns and falls back against the wall, dropping his head into his hands. "Oh, God." Dan swallows, trying to make sense of this. Rorschach's words, his tone, his goddamn hesitation.

_'That's always been the difference between us, Daniel.'_

_The difference between us is that he upholds his word and his honor and his integrity… At all costs. And I don't. And now-- Now what? What does he want from me?_ Dan tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He owes Rorschach nothing. He has never done any favors for him. _If anything, Rorschach owes me,_ Dan thinks selfishly.

The only thing Rorschach has never done for _him_ is-- _Well, he's saved my life a thousand times._ He lowers his head and stares at the door, now closed. In the past, Dan had often referred to Rorschach as a phenomenal partner and a good friend. Loyal. Trustworthy. Accountable… For most things. Playful at times. Temperamental at others. Utterly unpredictable and tactically brilliant, as he had pointed out to Laurie just a few days ago. What virtues, skills, and strengths Dan lacked, Rorschach possessed and vice-versa. Sure, they don't always see things eye to eye, but they are still…

_Partners,_ Dan thinks, catching himself in his mistake. They are _not still partners._ They haven't been for almost ten years, a fact that was constantly on Dan's mind. He sighs, his heart weighed down by leaden nostalgia. Nearly every memory that he has held onto in his retirement involves Rorschach or took place during the years when he had that impossible confidant by his side.

_'Jesus Christ, man! You saved my life!'  
'You're my partner. That's what I'm supposed to do. Always have your back, Daniel.'_

_'Everything will be fine.'  
'I-I know, it's just… Things aren't fine right now. It seems like everything's falling apart, y'know?'  
'Things aren't always what they seem.'_

_'No, Daniel-- Said you'd never quit. We're partners. You can't just--'  
'I have to, Rorschach. But… Well, you know you can always find me right here again.'_

_'Yes. I remember. Used to come here often. Back when we were partners.'  
'Oh. Uh, yeah… Yeah, those were great times, Rorschach._ Great_ times. What ever happened to them?'  
'You quit.' _

Dan huffs a strangled sigh and straightens, pushing up from the wall. He sets his jaw and moves to the door, shifting impatiently as it opens. And then he does what he should have done all those years ago: Dan goes after Rorschach. He goes out to stop him. To save him. To be his partner. His friend. Rorschach is quite possibly the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him and he isn't ready to give that up yet. He wont quit. Not this time.

Outside Veidt's complex, Dan is carried on by his courage to finally do what needs to be done. There is no wind. No cold that shakes him to the bone, only his fogged breath. The snow seems to be suspended in the air and time slows to a near standstill. He sees Rorschach, his figure dark as he stands eclipsed in the bright landscape, waiting with his back to him. Dan is about to call his name when he see Jon just over Rorschach's shoulder… And Dan's sprinting feet skitter to an abrupt halt. _Oh, shit._ He knows why there is no icy wind or blowing snow-- _Why_ the seconds tick by at so slow a pace. Jon is there and… _He's gonna kill him._

"Suddenly you discover humanity?" he hears Rorschach snarl, watching him shake his head with obvious contempt. "How convenient."

Dan stares, his mouth agape. He knows Jon has disintegrated others for less and without batting an eyelash. Why Rorschach was still _there_ when he threatened to upend Adrian's deceitful harmony?

Dan's throat tightens and he struggles to say something-- anything, his feeble plea lost on the wind. "Please." His heart pounds wildly in his chest and he shivers as every hair on his body stands on end. He squints, trying to read Jon's expression and realizes that Jon is not looking at Rorschach-- Although Dan's poor eyesight can't carry that far, he knows that Jon is looking at him. And it terrifies him. _Why is he looking at me? And what is he waiting on?_

Rorschach reaches up and tears his hat and mask from his head, tossing them to the ground. Dan can't help the sudden gasp, his lungs filling with blisteringly cold air. He stands there dumbly as his eyes fall to where the mask soundlessly hits the ground, the blots instantly ceasing their movement, as lifeless and still as the snow around it.

"If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened."

_Rorschach's right._ Dan's head jerks up suddenly. _This shouldn't matter to Jon. None of it ever has before._ Dan thinks. _Not if we really are as Laurie described._ 'Shadows in the fog.' Dan wonders if it's just that simple: Jon walks through a mist, going through the preordained motions of the universe. _But then, why the sudden ambivalence? Why now?_

Hollis' voice resounds in Dan's ear, heavy and lightly slurring his appeal after too many beers. _"Nah, I didn't believe a word of it at first. Uncle Sam says he's got Superman on a leash? And that he's teaching him to sit and roll over? Hell, Phantom don't even listen that well and he's just a dog!"_ Dan remembers laughing uneasily. _"Now look at him. What sort of free world is it when Superman is so easily governed by the demands of others?"_

Dan eyes Jon and wonders, just as he had of Rorschach, what would happen if Dan tried to stop him. "Don't," Dan grunts, trying to shout. His voice only comes out as a strangled rasp, the word barely audible to even himself.

But then he sees with stark clarity, even from where he stands, the lightest twitch to the apex of Jon's eyebrows. Jon hears him. And Dan's heart flops in his chest.

Jon blinks languidly. "I can change almost anything," he says softly, his words slow and measured, precise. They reverberate through Dan's body. "But I can't change human nature."

_He can change anything. Anything but us. Only we can do that._ Dan can change. He can make a choice and so can Rorschach. They can choose to do things differently. _It doesn't have to be this way._ Eventuality has never tasted so sweet. Whether such a thing as pre-destiny exists or not, Dan can make a choice. He takes a dragging step, feeling as if in a dream, unable to fight the gravity that weighs down his resolve as he struggles to brave the petrifying and exhilarating unknown.

"Of course, you must protect Veidt's new Utopia. What's one more body amongst foundations?"

"No," Dan whispers, his eyes wide as he recognizes Rorschach's words, deeds, and choices for what they are. _This is what he wants,_ he realizes suddenly. _He wants Jon to kill him. Oh, God. No. Move! C'mon, Dan, move! He needs you!_

His body finally complies. Dan was making his choice, goddamn the consequences, and he sure as hell wasn't going to stand there as Rorschach chose to end his life. Time rushes up to meet him. And Jon blinks again.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Rorschach pleads, his voice trembling with tears. "Do it."

"No!" Dan grunts breathlessly, colliding with Rorschach's back at a run, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Dan wraps his arms around him, his _friend_, and squeezes him tightly, even as he keens lowly, straining imperceptibly against Dan's hold. Dan catches a glimpse of Jon moving out of the corner of his eye, smiling so slightly that he can hardly see it before it's gone.

"No," Dan mutters again, turning his head and whispering in Rorschach's ear as he closes his eyes. He squeezes Rorschach again, restraining him while bracing himself for the anticipatory blow of retaliation... but it doesn't come.

Rorschach merely trembles in his embrace, his head falling back onto Dan's shoulder. Dan hears him suck in a quivering breath, choking back a sob that is drowned out by a violent gust wind. "_Do it_!" Rorschach bellows, his voice deafening as he buries his face into the hollow of Dan's neck.

"No, Jon, d--" Dan barks, his voice dying as he opens his eyes and realizes that Jon isn't there anymore. Dan lifts his head and loosens his arms from around his despondent companion, pivoting on his heel to look around them. They are completely alone. And the snow falls. And the wind blows, hard and sharp. Biting.

Dan feels Rorschach tremble and he turns around again, slowly moving pulling the smaller man to him with an arm around his waist. He grunts as he receives an elbow to the sternum and then is promptly shoved onto his ass. He looks up from where he lays in the snow and watches Rorschach stumble away from him, his hands on his face as he fights against the arctic tempest.

Dan jumps to his feet and runs after him, tackling him at the waist and landing hard atop him in the ice. Before Rorschach has a chance to scramble away again, Dan turns him over and pins his arms to the ground with his own, straddling him and weighing him down with his own body.

"Let me up, Daniel!" Rorschach growls, his face twisted in an ugly grimace as he tries to wrestle his arms free.

"No!"

Rorschach fights against Dan with all of his might, writhing and bucking beneath him, twisting as he lifts a shoulder of the ground, his boots slipping in the ice as he tries and fails to find purchase with which to leverage himself up

"Goddamn it, Rorschach, stop this!" Dan punches him in the jaw, subduing him for a moment, though not long enough. With one arm free, Rorschach tries to get a shot in, but Dan blocks it. He takes Rorschach by the shoulders and shoves him hard onto the icy ground. "Stop fighting me!"

"People have to be told!"

"Bullshit! Just-- Just stop with the bullshit!" Dan roars, lifting his arm to take another swing at him. But Rorschach stops fighting and Dan wavers as he stares down at him. He holds Rorschach's gaze for the first time ever, unhindered by masks or goggles or glasses, just Dan's gray eyes intent on Rorschach's blue ones.

"Bullshit," Dan says again, so quietly that neither of them hear it above the wind, but both of them feel it through the merciless maelstrom.

.

.

"What's that one, Daniel?"

Dan's eyes opened slowly and he shifted lower in his seat. With a deep breath and a slow exhale, he resettled and closed his eyes again. A few moments of silence passed and then his name was gently called again. Dan blinked and sat up straighter in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Hmmn?"

He must have fallen asleep. It was considerably darker out than he remembered at last glance, and his neck and back were stiff from sitting uncomfortably for far too long. He felt no more rested than he had before, his heart as heavy as his thoughts.

He must have dreamed it all, not surprisingly. It was too vivid and fresh in his memory, even as it slowly began to fade away, all the qualities of dreamlike wonder amusing him in retrospect. If only he were naive enough to believe that it had all just been one bad dream, that it was still 1964 or something, and everything was as it should be; how comforting that would be.

Dan's gaze settled on Rorschach after glancing about the cockpit. He looked as if he was brimming with muted boredom as he looked at Dan, his chin propped on the top of his bony knee. That easy analysis brought Dan to examine his friend a bit closer. Rorschach was still seated on the curved panels of Archie's bay, albeit turned to face the window more fully with one knee bent up in front of him, the other hanging limply to the side. And the mask was nowhere in sight. His expression was as blank and unreadable as ever, his clear eyes subjecting Dan to the same scrutiny as he waited. It was all body language in the end, something Dan felt he was quite the expert at reading when it came to this peculiar little man.

As Rorschach shifted, Dan knew that the slight tilt to his head paired with the pursing of his thin lips meant that he was expecting something and that he was growing impatient. "Sorry?" Dan yawned again. "What did you say? I think I, uh, dozed of there for a little while."

Rorschach regarded him for a moment longer and then turned to look out into the dark skies once more. Dan watched the pale eyes flit about wonderingly, before finally settling on a spot. Rorschach raised his arm to point out into the stars that glittered the dark horizon. "Know constellations, right? What is this one?"

Dan stood and moved to sit in the passenger seat, formerly the copilot's chair, behind Rorschach. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together idly, as he huddled down to lower his eyesight to that of his comrade's, straining his eyes and following along the line of Rorschach's arm. He sat back and stood for a moment, flipping a switch to turn off the lights in the cabin, then sat and repositioned himself behind his friend. The twinkling lights were all the more visible.

"Wow."

They gazed out at the stars together; Dan surveyed and puzzled over the difference between stars and satellites, galaxies and planets. It was beautiful. "I don't know," Dan replied finally as he marveled over the foreign skyscape. "I mean... Y'know, we're still in the southern hemisphere... I'm not particularly familiar with these constellations."

"Hnn," the smaller man grunted thoughtfully, drawing his other knee up and leaning against the curved eyelet once again, his arms folded across his chest. "Didn't know there were different constellations for different hemispheres."

"Sure. And, well, that is... Everything looks a little different depending on where you're standing, y'know. Depending on where you're looking from. It's all about the parallax."

Dan looked down at Rorschach and watched him thread a hand into the hair at the back of his neck, twisting a red lock about his calloused finger. "Parallax," Rorschach repeated in a whisper, trying out the new word. He nodded his head softly, filing Dan's words away in his memory.

They were silent for a few minutes and Dan's heart ached more with each passing moment. He could remember times like these, when they were younger, more naive men, taking the time to enjoy simple pleasures together like having a cold bottle of coke or an ice cream sundae back at his place after a hard night of crime fighting. Or the time they found a baseball in the street and had tossed it around as they made their way back to Archie. They had gotten far too carried away and had accidentally broken someone's apartment window. Dan could still remember how alive he had felt when they both fled the scene of the crime and then collapsed on the floor of Archie's cockpit, laughing their asses off.

He had thought times like those were long gone; he missed them desperately. He wondered if... _Do you miss them too?_ he wanted to ask but he already doubted an honest answer from his partner-- his _former_ partner-- who he knew had no taste for bittersweet sentimental memories. Still... Recalling when he and Rorschach had taken down the Underboss, discussing it just days before... _'Good night. Think of it often.'_ Wasn't that what Rorschach had said? Dan shifted his gaze from the window and looked down at his friend. Those really _had_ been good times. But then Dan had quit. _They both_ had quit.

"Never see stars like this in the city. So many them," Rorschach commented in distracted wonder, startling him.

Dan shook his head, staring out the window once more. He needed to stop fantasizing about the past. They had far more important things to be thinking about now. "Er, yeah, the light pollution really, uh, makes it hard to appreciate it."

"Might never have seen it at all. If none of this had happened."

Dan thought he could see the corner of Rorschach's mouth turn into a grim smile, but his head was mostly turned away from him and he couldn't be sure. It could have just as well been a frown, like the one on Dan's lips, creasing further as he considered Rorschach's words.

"Do they collide?" Rorschach asked quietly, "The stars?" He turned and brought his light eyes to Dan's after a moment, his sad expression warming and his _frown_ waning as he saw Dan smile softly.

"They do."

"What happens?" he asked, turning bodily to face him, like an eager pupil to his instructor.

Dan stared back at him and held his gaze seeing within him the childlike curiosity that he used to find _so_ charming when they had first started out together, rummaging through Dan's many gadgets and doodads. Dan grinned as he recalled the second year after establishing their partnership when he had gifted Rorschach with a grappling gun. _The same grappling gun he crushed a police officer's sternum with._

"Daniel? What happens?" Rorschach asked again, his impatience preceded by the desire for an answer.

"Well," Dan began pensively, considering his answer. _That depends,_ he thought, looking out the window once more. He couldn't bear to give such an ambivalent answer though, not when there was already as much uncertainty, not to a question as dangerous as this.

_When they differ drastically in size, type, and speed,_ Dan reasoned, staring down his nose at Rorschach, _they can very well destroy each other. But if are the same..._ Dan moved to the edge of the chair, then over to sit in the porthole with Rorschach. It was a tight fit, but Dan didn't pay it any mind. He _needed_ to be there. He crossed his legs and continued to smile at Rorschach, leaning a shoulder against the window, _And if they collide head on..._ Dan socked toes brushed Rorschach's bare ones and both men moved an inch further apart, but nothing more.

"They merge."


	2. Ch 2: Goodbyes

Chapter 2: Goodbyes

A broken, anguished man reached up and knocked the hat off of the back of his head. He then took the hem of the latex mask that he had come to recognize as his one true visage-- the face of his absolute, uncompromising identity-- and pulled it off as well. He tossed it away, discarding and abandoning it like a filthy rag, a tainted, ruined thing that had no longer had any use to him. He surrendered, finally, the only thing he had left in his life... And there was nothing left for him to hold onto.

Rorschach was finished. Adrian Veidt had committed the world's greatest atrocity. He had murdered millions of innocent people-- but had saved billions more. He had brought about Armageddon, had played it off as the world's greatest practical joke-- but for all this evil, he had created far more good. He had done Rorschach's work for him, on the grandest of scales, had succeeded-- and he had likewise made Rorschach obsolete. Veidt had given the world everything-- and had left behind for Rorschach, nothing.

_My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!_

_Nothing beside remains._

Walter Joseph Kovacs-- a squalid, timorous, slighted little nobody-- stood in the snow, nothing more than a stain in the pure, white wasteland that was Antarctica. He glared, staring down the closest thing he had ever known to God: the Being-- distant and unfeeling, the idealized man, the empyrean entity-- who had not a mortal inkling or coil for the agonizing, broken degenerate that stood before him. The Divine One, whose power and knowledge was limitless, yet who hesitated before absolving and rendering salvation upon this lowly sinner, even withholding revenge as slanderous words were snarled at him.

"If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened."

_This is your fault,_ the man wanted to say. _You could have changed everything. Could have prevented this from ever happening. Saved all of us from this mindless self-destruction. None of us would be here. Wouldn't need to be. You could have prevented the world from ever needing people like us. Prevented exposure to monsters like Veidt... And me._ The man, Walter, wanted to say that. But what use was it? It would change nothing but perhaps bring about his imminent death a fraction of a moment sooner... And as much as he ached for his pain to end, he was frightened of the unknowable phenomenon that was death. _Never would have come to this. I never would have had to make this decision._

_Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?_

His God's expression shifted imperceptibly and Walter took a sharp breath as the Judge, Jury, and Executioner delivered his sentence. "I can change almost anything, but I can't change human nature."

_Yes. Human nature... I would have been no less a fiend then I already am. Would still have been Rorschach. Ruthless. Blood thirsty. Savage. A rabid and vicious animal. The Devil's advocate and petty whore. Would still have been Kovacs. Worthless. Despicable. Forsaken. Always have been. Always will be. No matter the circumstances._

Walter felt tears well up, rolling from the corners of his eyes, stinging in the blighted, incised flesh upon his face. His real face. The one of flesh and blood. The one he had neglected and denied succor, the one he abhorred. "Of course, you must protect Veidt's new Utopia," he rasped, swallowing hard as he offered up what was left of his dignity, the whole of his integrity squandered years ago. "What's one more body amongst foundations?" He let the tears fall where they may, let it hurt. Let it make him feel alive. One last time.

_Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil... Now and at the hour of our death..._

But Jon faltered. Midnight blue eyelids fluttered for a moment. Luminous eyes flitted with far more uncertainty than should have been present. _Don't understand. He must have seen this. Must have known this would happen. What he would do. Why is he stalling?_ Walter's heart raced wildly, a deep-seated anxiety plunging over the precipice of his tenuous stability. He couldn't take his _own_ indecision, much less Jon's. He simply wanted to end it; was that so much to ask for? "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, inhaling sharply and nearly choking on the cry that threatened to escape, echoing instead in his shuddering exhale, his trembling voice. "Do it."

"No!" The word resounded loudly in his ears, like a distant memory or fantasy brought forth to light, becoming a reality as Jon allowed Walter one last temptation: Daniel. He winced and closed his eyes, propelled forward by the harsh inertia of Daniel colliding with him, but strong, secure arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tightly, holding him upright. His frail frame crumpled, falling back into the firm warmth behind him. Wrapped up in the very physical, very real embrace of his former partner, Walter yet doubted the actuality of Daniel's presence. He wanted to refuse any notion of Daniel's involvement in his present suffering, diminishing him as nothing more than an apparition, conjured from his deranged mind to comfort and terrorize him as he finally died. He didn't restrain the low hiss that shook his body, pain rippling through him, bright and harrowing. The crush of Daniel's arms knocked the air clean out of him and applied a sweetly painful pressure on his broken ribs. As the last hint of air emptied his lungs and the pain became unbearable, he struggled to resurface and take that last breath before sinking into the black waters. He opened his eyes to see Jon standing near, smiling, and he felt Daniel's lips move against his ear. "No." And it centered him in the moment.

_No,_ Walter begged voicelessly, the words mirrored to Daniel's as he struggled to mouth the single syllable. It was too horrific that Daniel would be there as he engineered his own death. Too perfect to have a change of heart. To late to try in earnest to stop him. Too ironic to try to save him, while crushing the life out of him with his own hands. Daniel's arms tightened around Walter again as if reasserting reality and Walter's breath caught, his pain hitching inconceivably higher.

His lips parted to plead for Daniel's release on his body and Jon's release on his torment, but his voice was silenced as the wind hit him hard, painfully freezing his tears to his cheeks. He stifled a cry, sharply drawing the breath to release it, shaking with the force of his misery. He went slack again in Daniel's arms, lolling his head back onto his shoulder and turning his brow to the warmth of Daniel's throat, desperate for any sort of relief as he was denied the comfort of his death. And he despaired at last. "_Do it!_"

"No, Jon, d--"

Walter staggered forward on unsteady feet as Daniel moved suddenly and loosened his hold on him, turning away. He suddenly felt empty, as if a fragile sense of hope that he hadn't been aware of, somewhere deep inside of him, had finally shattered. What little enlightenment he felt faded so quickly from his memory, it was as if he had never felt it at all. _Fleeting, meaningless, superficial-- like life. Never meant for me._ There would be no solace until it was over. Until he was finished.

He looked up into the blasting wind, so thick he could hardly see through it. He felt Daniel move against him, attempting to embrace him again, but Walter lashed out. He abruptly threw Daniel away from him with all the strength he could muster and then pushed himself to move forward into the squall as he turned away from his last saving grace. He couldn't take it anymore, this fluctuation between life and death, affliction and relief. There was only one way to put an end to all of it and if it had to be by his own means in the end, then so be it.

Walter shook as he trudged through the icy terrain, Daniel left far behind in his thoughts. He could feel the chill creeping up his spine and wondered how far he could make it before he collapsed, before he couldn't move anymore and dropped to his knees. _They say you grow warm before freezing to death._ He wished desperately that it was truth as he covered his face with his hands and trudged into oblivion, fighting the frigid wind that already made him ache. He told himself that it would pass soon. One more moment, one more step and he would be that much closer.

He made it several paces but then was falling through the air. Before he could register what was happening, he hit the ground hard and then found himself staring up at the sky, at Daniel who had tackled him and pinned him bodily. A streak of rage rose in him and he snarled up at the man above him. "Let me up, Daniel!"

"No!" Daniel protested, his gray eyes wide and fierce within the mask over his face, his teeth bared as he restrained the fiery redhead. He struggled to hold down Walter's flailing limbs, seeming to feed on the last of his strength as he slowly began to lose the will to fight at all. "Goddamn it, Rorschach, stop this!"

Walter took a blow to the jaw, his head whipping to the side with the force of it and his cheek scraping against the abrasive ice beneath and around him. He blinked as he saw stars for a moment and then his eyes narrowed, as hard and cold as their wintry environment. _Yes. That's right. I am Rorschach. Need to get him off of me. Then take care of business. Finish what I started._ He took a swing at Daniel as a shock of vivacity animated him but Daniel easily blocked the punch and lifted him by his shoulders and trench collar. Dan shoved him down onto the ground, knocking his head on ice that might as well have been as hard as concrete.

"Stop fighting me!"

"People have to be told!" was Walter's automatic reply. He tried his damnedest to shake off the vertigo plaguing his head so that he could throw another punch at Daniel, but his senses slowed and his vision continued to spin above him.

"Bullshit! Just-- Just stop with the bullshit!" Daniel bellowed above him.

Rorschach's eyes focused finally and his lips formed a question that was never vocalized. He saw Daniel's arm draw back to hit him again and he turned his head, ceasing his efforts to break free and waiting for the blow to fall. All the fight drained his body and he laid motionlessly beneath Daniel, deflated. He glanced back to Daniel when he didn't hit him, his eyes narrowing as he met his gaze. He watched as Daniel glanced over his features and Walter saw Daniel look at him for the first time. Countless times he had seen Daniel on the streets, stood next to him at the newsstand or sat nearby at the diner, had been unmasked in front of him and had held his gaze, stared him down. Countless times and yet Daniel never really _looked_ at him. At least not like he did now. Their eyes met again and his chest tightened.

Again, Daniel's lips formed that word, "Bullshit," and though Walter couldn't hear it over the wailing wind, it made his heart pound with all its implications. It was not possible that Daniel could know what he was truly saying, what it meant to Walter to hear those words uttered from the lips of the only person he, Walter and Rorschach alike, had ever cared about. From the one with whom Walter had built the foundations of his moral convictions and who Rorschach often measured against himself in times of doubt and, sadly, self-assurance. What it meant for someone like Daniel-- someone who's judgment meant far more than he was often willing to admit-- to denounce him in his final moment, to call him a liar and to be right. It cut him to the core.

Walter turned his face away again, closing his eyes tightly as they welled with tears again. _No. Cannot admit defeat! Never surrender!_ the will inside of him raved weakly, scarcely more than a whisper. Rorschach was finished. The ideal had failed him and even Daniel, of all people, knew. Daniel was calling him out, though there was no possibility that he really understood, and it made his guilt painstakingly worse. It heightened the truth of the matter, loath as he was to admit it to himself in its entirety: everything Rorschach stood for was built upon a lie; Walter had nothing else to live for without it; he couldn't cope with the grand burden of all of his sins; and the only thing he could bring himself to wish for now in his life was death.

The rush of adrenaline he had felt surged to accentuate pang of hurt in his body and heart. That shattered hope he had somehow overlooked gave its last flutter, a spent candle just barely staying aflame in the rampant darkness. As all of his reasons, excuses, and purposes fell down around him, everything he knew to be right and just in his world vanished altogether with his honor, dignity, and integrity, and left him a shameful, damaged man, withering in the snow.

-----

A harsh gust blew over them and Dan clenched his eyes shut, turning away from the blast. He groaned and wiped his face, the sharp crystals embedding in his skin like shards of glass, sucking away his warmth as they melted. He opened his eyes and looked down as he felt a slight tremor pass through his arms from the man below him, bringing forth a slight shiver along Dan's spine as well.

Rorschach groaned low in his throat as yet another icy gale swept about them and opened his eyes to find Dan looking down at him, concerned. He felt Dan let up on the vice grip he had on his arms and watched his hand reach towards him. He closed his eyes as the pad of Dan's gloved thumb brushed across his cheek, an attempt to wipe away the tears there. "Don't," he growled and smacked Dan's hand away, opening his eyes to glare up at him.

"They're going to freeze to your face," Dan muttered softly, reaching for him again. Rorschach's face looked blistered, the tip of his nose pink and the bright orange stubble a garish contrast to his pale skin. He seized Rorschach's wrist as he tried to shove him away again, trying with his other hand instead.

"Already have," Rorschach shot back; his voice wavered and he couldn't stop the next line of tears that trickled down, nor the shaking of his hands as he seized Dan's wrist in turn, stopping him from wiping his cheek again. He couldn't handle Dan's overbearing, worry filled affections. Not now. Didn't he understand that he was only prolonging his pain? "Just go, Daniel."

Dan shook his head slowly, feeling tears stir in his own eyes as Rorschach's weak command confirmed everything he had suspected. He had hoped that he was wrong, that this was some fluke, some misunderstanding, and that facing Rorschach down would reveal the truth behind the matter. That was at least correct. He knew the truth, every grief-stricken syllable of it. Dan felt out of his depth, overwhelmed not just with this realization, but with the sheer magnitude of all the happenings, catastrophes, and utter miracles that had come booming into his life within the last couple weeks, the last several days. He had just gotten his life back. He was falling in love. He finally had his best friend and partner at his side once more. His mentor had recently been murdered at his expense. Adrian Veidt had just devastated the world and if Dan had a mind to live past that night, he had better swallow it down and keep his mouth shut. He had become a hero again overnight and he felt more alive within the last few days than he had felt in years. He was finally living again, finally taking control of his life, complete with the enthralling terror of pushing to his full potential and beyond. He didn't want it to end. He couldn't allow it to end and if there was anything he could do to keep everything from falling even further apart, he vowed to do whatever it took. "No," he breathed finally, his voice cracking. "No. I'm no going anywhere. I can't let you do this to yourself."

Rorschach stared up at Dan, trying his hardest to hold his gaze, to remain firm and strong. He needed to save face, was desperate to be the immovable object, the unstoppable force to which Dan would yield. But he could see Dan's eyes filling with tears and could see them fell against his chest. Though he could not feel them, each falling tear was like bullet whose shockwave ricocheted through him, shredding and destroying his insides. More than that, he felt a stronger desperation fill and conquer him. He couldn't look at Dan anymore and he turned his face to the side in self-defiance. "Don't know what you're talking about," he replied dispassionately, betrayed by his own faltering voice.

"I'm not an idiot, Rorschach. I don't know what's going on inside of you but I know you well enough to know what it's not." Dan paused for a moment, wiping at his own face angrily. He wasn't any good at this. He wasn't any good with matters of the heart-- Well, at least not his own heart and, loathe as he was to admit it, it wasn't only Rorschach's ass on the line here. Dan typically appealed to the logical argument before one of emotion and stuck to what he knew, what he could make sense of. Emotions didn't make sense, but at the moment that was all he had. He was scared, goddammit! And, oh, how he hurt! He felt so stupid kneeling there, trying to convince Rorschach that all this depravity wasn't worth losing hope over, especially when Dan could hardly believe his own willingness to let it pass-- And he felt so lost, trying _not_ to acknowledge that sickening need he felt for this broken man, to make him stay caught up on the tangled web of his life-- And unable to admit how much he wanted to just let it all go to waste himself, to lay down beside his resolute redheaded friend and just give up... To hell with logic. Nothing about this was logical. None of it made sense. None of these lies. "This isn't about good and evil, or-- or compromise, or people needing telling. It's not any of those things."

"It's all of those things," Rorschach argued mechanically, no feeling or inflection behind his words. He didn't believe it himself. He simply had nothing else to say as he stared off into oblivion, shivering lightly; the twitchy trembling spread throughout his body, heightening every ache and cramp. He didn't bring his eyes back to Dan's, knowing full well what would come next, already bracing himself for the words he knew would hurt, already ruined with the anticipation:

"Bullshit!" Dan retorted just as punctually. Something of anger snapped in him then and he hatefully grasped Rorschach's throat in his shaking hand and turning his head to force him look at him. "Why are you pushing me? Stop lying to me! To yourself! It's all bullshit and you know it!" He drew his arm back to hit him, to make him flinch, to draw _something_ out of him, but all he got was those vibrant, unreadable blue eyes. "What do you want from me?"

It was Dan's words that tore the feeling from him. "Want from you?" Rorschach queried breathlessly, his brows pursing. He huffed a strangled sob, his teeth chattering as he turned away. "Don't want anything from you, Daniel. Just want out." Rorschach couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "Want you to leave me here."

"No." Dan turned Rorschach's head again slowly, his grip moving up from his neck to his jaw, cupping his cheek in his gloved palm. "No, I can't just--"

"Leave me here and--" Rorschach's words were lost as Dan lifted him again and shoved him onto the ground again. His head bounced and his vision clouded black, white spots dancing beneath his eyelids as he groaned and swallowed down nausea. He reached up blindly and Dan took his hand, stopping him before he reached him and holding his wrist inthe air. Rorschach's face twisted in a wry grimace. "Why are you doing this?" He asked softly, finally looking up into Dan's charcoal gray eyes, regarding him.

"Be-because," Dan began, the height of his own shivering hitched in his voice. "Because I'm your friend. And if anybody should be out here freezing to death with you," he forced himself to smile, "it should be me. Right?"

"That's exactly why you _shouldn't_ be out here, Daniel."

Dan's eyes darkened and he could feel his heart breaking and out of everything he wanted, _needed_ to say to Rorschach, he couldn't seem to find the words. _If there's anybody who should be going back there with me, it's you._ Dan closed his eyes, his head hanging for a moment, shaking with the truth laden in the thought. He took a few deep breaths to ease his lightheadedness and then looked at Rorschach again. "Come on, man..." He whispered helplessly. "This isn't over yet. There's more to it than just this. I know there is." Dan swallowed thickly, squeezing Rorschach's shoulder. "It's personal, right? It's always personal. That's what you meant, right? That's the difference between us?"

"Go, Daniel," Rorschach commanded, ignoring his question as he closed his hand over Dan's wrist, weakly trying to pry off his grip and shove him away. "No sense in--"

"No! I'm not letting you die out here." Dan took a deep breath, preparing to spit out his retort but what came instead as a hopeless, petulant whine. "Wh-why are you being such a goddamn coward, Rorschach?" He was crying freely now, tears freezing to his own face. "If you're giving up, what chance have I got? I'm--I'm not ready to give up yet, but... How can I do this when you've just quit? You didn't even fight. You're just-- Taking the easy way out." The words that fell out of his mouth shocked him, the truth of the terror in it all, the hopelessness and trepidation he felt, along with a new, suffocating feeling of regret that he didn't even knew he felt. And the way Rorschach looked up at him, meeting his gaze and really seeing, really listening him, it made the dam inside of him, the one that had been holding things together all these years, finally burst and he couldn't stop.

"So much of all this shit has been hinging on you, do you know that?" Dan paused to take a breath, finding it harder and harder to draw air into his lungs. "It's because of you that I'm here. Because of you that I didn't get blown up in New York. Because of you that I know about any of this shit. _It's your fault._ It's your fault that I've got nothing anymore." _Except you. And I don't even have that._ He pounded a fist on Rorschach's chest, holding his breath to withhold his sob as everything fell around him. "I-I... Oh, god," he moaned, lost in his thoughts. His eyes finally focused on Rorschach. "This is all my fault. I should have done things differently. Way back then, I should have stayed, I should have kept at it with you. I should have been there for you, man. I-- I... Shit. I screwed up. I know. I just... I'm here for you now, man. Trust me. Please. I don't want to lose you again. Don't give up on yourself. I haven't."

Rorschach was silent as he watched Dan fall apart. He reached for Dan and closed his eyes as he squeezed his friend's shoulders, with all the strength he could bring into his numbing hands, trying to ground him. He frowned gravely as he listened to Dan choke on his breath. It was the truth. Dan was telling the truth, or at least the version he knew best of it. He was hurting, sincerely and genuinely falling apart with a guilt Rorschach couldn't comprehend. His words shook him, but he didn't think Dan understood what he was really asking. "It's too late for that now, Daniel."

"No, it's never too late. Come back with me," Dan whispered, shiffling as he leaned down over his friend, his breath warming the other man's face. He bore into those stale blue eyes, searching for anything, any reassurance he could hold onto. It made the hair stand on this back of Dan's neck,to ask something like that of Rorschach, a man who took personal commitment far more seriously than anybody Dan had ever met. But for all of his sudden apprehension and all the moments that passed without the redhead's immediate rejection, that was exactly what Dan wanted, the promise of a promise he needed to make it through this. "I've never asked anything of you, Rorschach," he implored shamelessly, his teeth chattering through his words. "But now I am. I don't want to do this alone. Please."

Rorschach drew in a long staggered breath. He searched Dan's face for a hint of deceit or uncertainty and found plenty of the latter, but there was still something hopeful in it. It shook him harder than the cold could. He felt like he should be angry. Like he had every right to hate Dan for taking his sweet time to notice Rorschach reaching out to him and to try to make something of his ruined soul when it was too late and he had no desire to go on. He should despise him for making him want just a taste more of what Dan was offering him. To make him crave the pains of living just a little while longer when he had been waiting so very long for Dan to give him a reason to be anything but what he was. "Daniel, I-- My life is over."

"Then we'll start a new one," Dan insisted without missing a beat. Rorschach's eyes were intent on his, still gripping his shoulders tightly despite the decline in his strength. Dan frowned, his friend's shivering now beyond his control, shaking Dan shared his heat with him. He was running out of time and the urgency beat wildly in his chest. He couldn't fix this all right now. He just needed to give this broken man a little something more to hold onto until he had him safe and secure. "This doesn't have to be the end. The world is gonna change and rebuild itself. We can too. You're not alone in this, Rorschach. I'm here with you."

Rorschach closed his eyes, swallowing dryly as he considered Dan's words. He had told himself that if Dan had looked him in the eye as they stood in the hall, when Rorschach was saying his goodbyes to him-- If Dan had finally felt him reaching out to him and had said, "No, Rorschach, stay," he told himself that he would have. But then, he had only told himself that because he knew Dan would never risk something like this, would never put himself out there, because he didn't matter enough to him, pure and simple. He wanted to end it all but never had he feared dying so much now that he felt at tiny glimmer of hope reignite within him. He wanted to die-- but he wanted to live. And suddenly the compassionate, benevolent man leaning over him was infinitely more frightening than the prospect of his death. As Dan knelt in the snow, braving the blizzard and freezing for _his_ sake, as he pressing Rorschach deeper into the snow with a tragic need for him to survive this with him, Rorschach was beyond afraid. What would it mean to live for Dan? Because of Dan? His eyes opened slowly. "I don't know if I c--"

"Please... I-- Rorschach, please don't make me make a choice about whether you live or die." Dan stared at him, shaking his head. "Whether the both of us-- I can't... Give yourself a chance man. And-and... don't quit on me again. I can't take it. Come back. F-For me?" He watched Rorschach search for a way, he was certain, to reject him. He almost hoped that he would. He didn't know if could do it-- If he could be the one responsible for postponing the death of a man who wanted nothing more than for it to end. Dan wanted to be his friend and that meant trying to salvage what was left of him. But Dan was starting to realize and with stark clarity, that he was in pure agony and must have always been that way. Dan looked down, realizing that he didn't really know the damaged, unsightly man below him. But he meant every word regardless. He couldn't take it back even if he wanted to, even if the guilt ate him alive-- Even if he could never save Rorschach and it killed him in the end. Because, Dan also realized, he had no choice. He couldn't deny him. Neither could he deny himself. There was something between them, born years ago, that made one need the other, cling to the on another in their darkest moments, something that refused to let the other give up on the former. Deeper than friendship and partnership. It was kinship. Brotherhood. And there was no fighting it now that he recognized it. He had no choice.

Rorschach's eyes bore into Dan's as he gazed up at him for a long moment, then looked down a bit, blinking. His eyes rose again and narrowed, and then he nodded softly, whispering his acquiescence so quietly that Dan couldn't hear it, but he knew. And when another tear trickled out, Rorschach didn't stop Dan as he reached up to swipe it away. Dan sat back on his shins and helped Rorschach sit up, a hand on his shoulder to keep him up. Rorschach clutched Dan's shoulders, holding himself up and shivering violently as the canopy Dan's body and cape had formed was gone and all their shared heat seeped away. Dan shivered as well and quickly pulled Rorschach into a tight embrace, holding him firmly against him, happy beyond words despite how heartbroken he felt. And to his surprise, Rorschach didn't fight him but returned the pull of his arms in turn, hugging him back. It wasn't the meagre, halfhearted hug Dan might have expected either. Rorschach was practically clinging to him.

Dan drew him in closer against him, wrapping his arms around him solidly, shivering with him and hoping to pool some heat between them. He considered taking off his cape to wrap around the two of them, or at least around Rorschach, but that would involve removing his cowl and exposing his head, neck, and shoulders, and that thought was simply ludicrous at this point. He let go of Rorschach for a moment, secretly pleased when the smaller man made no movement to let go of Dan in return, and brought his cape around to wrap around them both, a sharp tremor running down his spine as it was exposed to the glacial tempest blowing about them. He could practically feel the frost crawling up the zipper on his back.

"Wrap around further," Rorschach instructed lowly, his words short and clipped and his eyelids drooping low. Dan shivered harder as he felt Rorschach's arm wrap further around his middle to his back, peering down at the redhead quizzically. "Can hold it around you til ready to move," he explained into the curve of Dan's neck. After a momentary struggle, Dan pulled the cape tighter, delivered the end into Rorschach's hand, and felt it tug snugly and completely around them both, the tail of Dan's cape help between them as they were both cocooned inside by their combined effort.

Rorschach felt warmer immediately, but he couldn't shake his impending hypothermia. He was breathing slowly, his head bowed as he worked on clenching and unclenching his fists, desperately trying regain feeling as he buried his forehead under Dan's chin, trying to burrow himself further into Dan's warmth. He started when he felt Dan's hand close over his, squeezing his stiff fingers. "You okay?"

"C-Can we go inside? Can't feel my fingers anym-more." Or his toes. Or his ears or nose.

"Oh. That's why you were--" Dan started, his thoughts lost on the wind. Rorschach's twitching hands were pressed against his chest as he tried to flex them. He really couldn't feel them. They were nearly out of time and they had get back as soon as possible. "Yeah, that'd be a good idea. But just wait a minute. We'll regain a bit more heat and make a dash for the door, okay?

"Can't hardly stay awake anymore." Dan leaned away from him and looked at him, watching his eyelids fluttering closed, his lips tinted blue and trembling with cold. Dan reached for Rorschach's scarf, pulling it of his trench coat and struggling with him for a moment. But Dan finally broke out of his grasp and unfolded the scarf, bringing it up to wrap around Rorschach's ears, nose, and mouth.

"We're-- unnh..." Dan winced, his lips too cold to form the words, actually pained in the effort. _That's it. Time's up. Game over._ "We're not waiting. We're going n-now," he stammered, mentally swearing up and down that everything's would be alright. That they'd make it through this. But as he unwrapped the both of them and began to stand, trying to help Rorschach to his feet, he found that the smaller man was unconscious.


End file.
